


An Oath

by BriannaNicole



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, mentions of past character death, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriannaNicole/pseuds/BriannaNicole
Summary: When Rick is told some disturbing information during a routine gun check with The Saviors, he sets out on a solo mission to save the most important person in his life.





	An Oath

**Author's Note:**

> This may not be perfect but I couldn't allow my depression and hectic work schedule to take this away from me any longer. I hope you all enjoy, this was a joy to write. 
> 
> Thank you.

It would have been a beautiful day, Rick thinks, peering up at a cloudless sky through bleary eyes. From the look of it with the occasional bird flying by, there shouldn't be anything wrong. 

But there is and has been for weeks. Since Negan came into their lives, destroying damn near everything. 

It's not something Rick didn't ask for if he's honest with himself. He gave the order to go after him and lives were smothered out because of it. 

All he wanted was to be one step ahead, to make the chance of his family's survival better. His pride tricked him into thinking his family was invincible, despite everything. Instead, he's put them all in a position to be slaughtered on a whim. 

And some of them have. 

Glenn. Abraham. 

Some of them taken.

Daryl...

Rick's fist clenches, itching with the need to reach out to Daryl. They've been together through thick and thin until Negan. The thought of not knowing if Daryl is even still alive has put a weight on Rick' shoulders, unlike anything he's had to carry before. 

If Daryl is no longer amongst the living Rick knows he'd hurriedly claw his hands raw at the ground to bury himself alive. But not before he's killed every son of a bitch who ever dared lay hands on the skin he's worshiped for so long. 

How nice would it be to make Negan witness the falling of his empire before suffering the slow ending of his own life?

 

Rick had spent the first quiet moments of the morning with Judith, slipping in through her bedroom door quietly as not to wake her. He hadn't slept well that night and hasn't since Daryl has been gone. Opting to wear a dent in their bedroom floor instead, his heart overflowing with guilt, worry, and fear. Still, a smile creeps across his lips at the sight of his youngest laying peacefully in her crib undisturbed and unknowing. 

She makes the cutest sounds when she's close to waking. Little burbles around the thumb she still has stuck between her lips. When she stirs Rick reaches down and smooths his hand over her blonde hair, each strand feeling like the finest silk. Many have fallen so she could live and he would gladly do it again, and would. 

She sits up and rubs her little fist over her eye then smiles up at him. She holds her arms out to her father, her hands grabbing. 

"Up, Da Da." She had said, her voice still laced with sleep. By the time Rick leans over the side of the crib she's standing on her tip toes, her arms wrapped around her father's neck. Rick takes a hold of her, his back protesting from the run he and Aaron had gone on yesterday and holds her close for a while. He sways with her, bouncing her gently as her head rests tucked under his chin. 

It warms his heart when he realizes this is the one person in the world who thinks he's without flaw or blemish. A sloppy kiss is pressed to his jaw and Rick returns it reminding himself that this is what he lives and fights for. He just wishes his lover were here to participate in this tender moment. 

 

Now, Rick stands in the middle of the main road of Alexandria, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He waits anxiously for The Saviors arrival. Judith is locked back in her room with Carl, the rest of his group and the Alexandrians under strict order to be out of the way unless asked. Whenever The Saviors are around, one false move could mean the death of them and someone else just as innocent. 

Off to the side, Michonne is standing weaponless. None of them are allowed weapons anymore. Except for the tiny pistol Negan allows Rick for runs, even then it's to be empty, ammunition and pistol in hand whenever they arrive. 

"Gotta keep my bitch on his leash!" Negan had said, his long frame bent back from Rick as he laughed but towering over him all the same. 

If he could have, Rick would have splayed him open neck to navel just for the audacity of those words. 

 

Michonne's eyes are weary but determined, her lips pressed into a hard line. Since Daryl has been gone she has stepped up to be his right hand. She guards his family and the others while he's gone. She understands how hard this has been for Rick and has tried her best to be there for him. It's not the same as having his better half and she knows that but continues to stand by him faithfully. 

She's smart, a beautiful woman, and strong in her nature. She'd follow Rick anywhere with reason, unlike Daryl who'd willingly follow him into the thick of any danger. She usually has more logic than her leader and Rick will always love and respect her for that. 

Their glances meet when the Saviors pull through the gates and they nod to each other, her stance centered, ready for action. 

The Saviors pull in with their usual trail of huge vehicles filled with their people armed to the teeth. Rick expects Negan to step out of the first truck but Dwight does. The rest of them spread out into various houses, using their superior bulk to kick in doors. Some get a kick out of the fearful glances and downcast eyes, cocking their guns just for the hell of it. 

Rick keeps one eye on Dwight walking up to him, the other on his people. He clenches his fist around the bullets so tight he's sure his knuckles are white. His breathing quickens no matter how calm he tries to make himself. 

He's seen Dwight before, trying to shine in Negan's shadow. No one would be able to forget the scarred left side of his face but his stringy blond hair and lanky build make him look commonplace. Without the burns, he'd be unremarkable, forgettable if not for his leader. 

When Dwight approaches Rick two of his people flank in beside him, ready to defend their stand-in leader. With a raise of his hand, Dwight dismisses them. They both thump their fists to their chests and retreat. Rick watches them for a moment before he turns his full attention to the man in front of him. He wonders why the man looks so anxious. 

"I have the guns. All twenty-three. Cleaned and unloaded like Negan ordered." 

Rick then holds out his palm revealing the bullets he's holding, then pulls out the pistol tucked in the back of his pants. He always feels so belittled when he does this but it's just one more rule to follow. 

"This is unloaded as well. You can check it." 

Dwight doesn't spare the weapon or ammunition a glance. He looks around and steps closer into Rick's space. Rick immediately readies himself for a fight, eyes narrowed. Dwight shakes his head, glancing around. Rick frowns, tilting his head, trying to read the blond's intentions. It seems like the man is conflicted on whether to speak or not. Rick's patience runs low but he's not stupid enough to attack the man out in the open like this, so he waits. When Dwight finally does speak it rocks Rick to his core. 

 

"I need to talk to you. It's about Daryl." 

 

Rick is in Dwight's face before they're around the corner, hidden in a small grassy pathway between two houses. 

"Is he alive?" 

Rick is so close that Dwight feels more than a little uncomfortable. He's never been much for confrontation and when he does his leader is usually there or Simon is watching. When Negan is around it doesn't take much convincing to know that his ass better be in line or he might lose it. He was lucky to walk away with his burns the last time he tried to escape with his wife. It could've been worse. He's seen his superior do _so_ much worse. 

He nods, "Yes. He's alive."

Dwight notices how Ricks body momentarily sags with relief. It was subtle, small but there. Even the fire in his eyes calmed just enough like knowing Daryl is alive has given him back something. Dwight only gets a moment to ponder what before the front of his button-down is crumpled in Rick's grasp. He may fake his character around his leader but he doesn't appreciate being manhandled. He tries to push Rick away but the man holds fast. 

"What are they doing to him." 

Dwight pulls at Rick's wrist. Rick's clutch only tightens, he can feel the other man's knuckles digging into his chest. A true fight with this man would not be won one on one. He'll remember that. 

"They've got him naked in a cell, feeding him dog food. I've seen him be beaten for disobedience and rebellion. But that's all I know -honest."

Being a part of The Saviors has granted Dwight the privilege of not having to feel the fear others have. However, looking into Rick's eyes makes him feel a panic he's not quite familiar with anymore. The blue eyes boring into his shine with unshed tears, a tremor goes up the man's arm that he can feel through the hand loosening in his shirt. 

Rick pushes him away and turns his back on Dwight, his head bowing for a moment, his hands resting on his hips. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to clear his eyes and steady his heart. He sniffs quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Finally, he murmurs, "Did you have a hand in this?" 

Dwight immediately answers "No- I"

"Because if you did, and I find out.." Rick turns back to Dwight, " I will slit your throat from ear to ear."

His head tilts again, bloodshot eyes digging into Dwight's. His stare holds so much promise that it's unnerving. Dwight swallows so hard his throat clicks but nods his understanding. 

"I'm not lying, that's why I came. Simon was supposed to but I needed to talk to you."

"And?" Rick asks. 

"Daryl told me he couldn't obey Negan, that he's thinking of someone. Figured he was talking about you." 

It's Rick's turn to nod. They stand in an uncomfortable silence before Dwight clears his throat, wiping nervous sweat from his brow. 

"They've got the weapons you found by now. Use that information." 

With that Dwight walks away and disappears back around the corner. Rick stays behind for a moment to regain his composure before stepping back out onto the main road to watch them leave. Michonne is watching him, she frowns when their eyes meet, hers are filled with question.

Rick turns on his heel and heads for his and Daryl's home, Michonne isn't far behind. 

He throws a large book bag onto the bed, stuffing the essentials in it without order. As long as they fit. 

A couple travel bars, several bottles of water, a flashlight.

Clothes for Daryl. 

Rick takes a moment to breathe in the smell of his lover's clothes. They still hold a faint hint of cigarette smoke and pine in them. There's no time for tears. Only time for action. 

He turns to see Michonne leaning casually against the door frame to the bedroom, the look on her face is disapproving. Rick glances over but doesn't pay her any attention, continuing to pack his bag. He's mumbling to himself, quickly checking off his mental list. 

"Rick." 

He doesn't answer, instead, he loads the tiny pistol making sure It's full. Nodding to himself he shoves the only box of ammo he has in with the rest of his supplies. It's all he's got so it'll have to do. Hopefully, he won't have to use it. 

"Rick..."

"...be there by nightfall if I leave soon..." He mumbles to himself. 

"Rick!" 

"What?!" Rick turns on his friend, his face lit with irritation. 

"What are you doing?" Michonne asks.

Rick sighs, "Packing." 

"For?" 

"I'm going alone", Rick shakes his head. 

The curtness of his response reminds Michonne of Daryl. She thinks for a moment as her leader taps his foot, rushing her without words. 

The Saviors rolled out without much fanfare, much to her relief. They left without demanding much more, just the usual schedule so she doubted Rick would already be going out to look since he had gone just yesterday. 

Rick runs out of patience and resumes packing, pacing around the room, his movements panicked. Michonne frowns, thinking harder. 

Dwight had shown up instead of Simon or Negan, she had watched suspiciously as he and Rick went around the corner for privacy. Her leader acted normal -under the circumstances- until then so he must have been told something disturbing to spur him into this kind of action. Her friend would be level- headed about anything or anyone unless it were his kids but they're fine. 

Then there's Daryl. 

It dawns on Michonne then, Dwight must have given Rick information on his other half. So he's going alone. 

 

"You're gonna risk his life like that? Yours? Our family's?" Michonne asks, her dark eyebrow raising.

"I have to, Michonne!" Rick raises his voice. "You don't know what they're doing to him!" 

The anger in him is tangible, a real thing occupying the room with them. Michonne swallows thickly but answers, 

"No, I don't, but don't you think it's unwise to go charging in alone? If Negan catches you then it means your life and his. Or. What if he comes back here and harms your children? We won't be able to protect ourselves, you're the only one here with a weapon and you're taking it with you." 

She points to the pistol resting in Rick's hand, making her point. 

Rick takes a firm step forward, a finger pointing to himself, "I'm not going to let him sit in that _fucking_ cell alone, naked and abused. Dwight told me all they feed him is goddamn dog food and I'm not gonna sit here knowing that's happening and not do shit about it!" 

"How do you know he's telling the truth? He's one of them. Sounds like a trap to me." 

Rick growls, "I. Don't. Care. I have to try. There's no way I'm not sitting here and you can't convince me to stay." 

Michonne holds up her hands in a calming gesture, "Rick, I'm not telling you to ignore what Dwight said. I'm just bringing up other things to think about." 

"There is nothing else to think about. They have Daryl and that's all that matters to me. Watch everyone for me while, please, I know you can."

"Rick-" 

"No! I love him and I'm going. He's been through enough, he doesn't deserve this. No matter what anyone says."

Rick pauses for a moment to search Michonne's mahogany eyes, "I'm gonna be painfully honest here because I know you can take it. Aside from my kids, Daryl is my priority. He's everything to me, I'm gonna choose him and my children over anything and anyone. That is my **life** in there, Michonne! I'm not leaving him in there. Yes, maybe Dwight is lying but that's a risk I have to take."

He ends in a whisper and turns to zip up his pack, throwing it over one shoulder. He and Michonne face each other and in the silence is understanding. Michonne doesn't feel any hurt in what Rick had said, she remembers feeling that kind of love so strong it removes all reason. She smiles faintly as Rick pushes past her, she catches his hand and squeezes firmly. 

" I love him too. I wasn't saying that I don't. Please...please be careful." She pulls Rick into a warm hug, when she pulls away she whispers, "Keep each other safe." 

Rick nods and in moments he's leaving. Michonne sighs and closes the bedroom door behind her. She can't help the worry already gathering in her gut. 

 

Rather than go out the front and raise suspicion and questions he climbs the fence like he'd seen Enid do many times before. Sure, he chastised her about it, told her not to go runnin' off like that, but he kept that little bit of knowledge for himself. Just in case. He just doesn't have the time or patience for anyone to slow him down right now. Nightfall will be here soon, his conversation with Michonne putting him behind schedule. 

 

It's painful, scurrying through the woods without Daryl by his side, moving totally in sync. Stooping low to the ground together, loaded weapons at the ready. They'd listen to the noises around them together, sort out what's trouble and what's nature -harmless. With nothing more than a glance they'd come to the same conclusions and move on, within an arm's length of the other. 

Rick comes across the tree where he and Daryl had first slipped beyond the walls of Alexandria. Daryl had been wound tight that night. 

"Can't fuckin breathe in there, man." He had said, grabbing his crossbow and leaving. 

Rick knew he wasn't leaving for good but it took everything he had not to rush out behind him immediately. Choosing instead to give the man some space. When he finally caught up to Daryl they had worked out each other's stress in the best way possible.

Rick remembers how much Daryl had spilled over the sparse grass around the tree that night. How deep he had driven himself into his lover to assure him he wasn't alone. To remind him if Alexandria couldn't be the hunter's home then Rick could. When he smiles it's a broken thing and he hopes if he's too late then maybe a part of his lover is still planted within the ground there. That way, he can carry Daryl home regardless. Somehow.

The leader hurries on with his journey, his eyes watching the progress of the sun every little while. He's still making good time and with a satisfied nod to himself, he hurries faster, keeping his eyes and ears open for Saviors, walkers and people alike. There's so much to watch for when you're alone.

 

By the time nightfall is upon him Rick is coming upon Sanctuary territory, he doesn't dare come too close lest he be seen. Instead, several yards back he skirts around their perimeter until he comes across what looks to be a warehouse. There are half a dozen walkers waiting for him inside, still in worker's uniforms. The tiny pistol Rick has won't do him any good, it would only attract attention so he immediately looks for something more useful. 

As the walkers close in on him, over in the corner Rick spots a 4x4 propped up against the wall. Gritting his teeth and gathering his will, Rick uses the pistol as a melee weapon until he can get to his goal. The pistol isn't doing much but it's just enough to keep them at bay as he all but stumbles to the plank. 

As soon as Rick has the newly acquired weapon in his hands he's swinging it with everything he has. Blood splatters everywhere as he aims for their heads. Hitting them with the corner of the plank in the neck seems to work just as well, even decapitating a few. When he's done not one walker is standing. The plank is covered in black brain matter and thick brackish blood.He huffs and aims a kick at one of the walkers. 

It's not fucking enough. 

Rick picks a walker at random and slams the plank downwards into it over and over. This time blood covers his face and gets into his eyes but that doesn't stop him. His rage continues until the walker is in pieces. It's all Rick can do to swallow the scream scraping over his tongue. 

He drops his weapon, letting it clatter to the floor while he takes a moment catch his breath. With hands shaking from adrenaline he wipes his wrist across his forehead and cleans the mess from his eyes. His forearms are covered up to his shoulders, the front of his pants and shirt drenched in their ending. 

Rick's eyes cast down on the broken things laying at his feet. Gathering all of the saliva he has in his dry mouth he spits at the walkers he's killed. 

"Fuckers." 

When he goes to pick up his pack where he'd left it his hand twinges with pain. There are splinters in his hands from gripping the wood so tight. He picks out a few splinters as he heads to the window, taking out a pair of binoculars he's glad he had the mind to bring. It's dark now but the front of the Sanctuary is brightly lit. Negan is smug this way, he knows his army could handle anyone ignorant enough to barge in on him. 

The bright car lights bring him back to that moment weeks ago and he shakes his head to clear it of the gruesome images. He zooms in, Negan has people in a large caged in area with walkers lunging at them, some are chained to stakes. Those poor people are defenseless, left to only dodge and try to keep out of reach of the creatures. 

Scanning the area Rick doesn't see Daryl but it's not long before he does. 

His lover is being pushed towards the cage and Rick's heart sinks somewhere beneath his toes when Daryl is pushed inside. Daryl resists but the cage door is slammed in his face and locked. Walkers are immediately upon him, without a weapon he has no choice but to roll out of the way. Some of Negan's men watch on like it's some sports event, of course, they're cheering for the walkers. Sick bastards. 

Rick frantically scans the area trying to find a safe way in. By the time he has Daryl back in his sights the hunter has fallen against a fence and a walker is stumbling towards him. 

Rick wills him to move or kick out...something. It appears that Daryl is stuck somehow. Caught clothing? He runs to the next window, desperately trying to better his point of view. Bringing the binoculars back to his eyes, he zooms in again and sees that Simon has reached through the fence and has grabbed Daryl's hair. He laughs as Daryl struggles, yanking on the prisoner's hair. 

The walker is only a few feet away from Daryl now and Rick's teeth are on edge, helpless only to observe. 

"Cmon Daryl...do something!"Rick murmurs. "Please, do something!" 

This is when Daryl kicks out at the walker, knocking it backward. It doesn't fall and seems to double its efforts to get to him. Between the first kick and the next, the hunter strikes out viciously at Simon with his elbow. Simon steps back and Rick can see that the man is angry. With a wave of his hand, Daryl is yanked off the walker he's in a skirmish with and is dragged out of the caged area.

Daryl is fighting tooth and nail, the men have trouble getting a grip on him. Rick is reminded of how his better half grew up fighting for his life and this is no different. Daryl tries his best but is soon overwhelmed and is held still. Negan emerges from a side door casually, his bat resting on his shoulder. That damned smile is stretched wide across his face making Rick feel sick to his stomach.

Daryl continues to struggle and is punished with slaps to his face and a couple punches to his torso. Simon stands beside his leader when he comes face to face with Daryl. 

The men let the hunter go, Rick is relieved that he doesn't act out. He stands, his hands twitching like he's wishing for a weapon. Negan talks, his body bending back and forwards, his bat swaying with him. Each minute that goes by Rick's heart sinks further, he only wishes he could run in and just save him. Regrettably, he can't so he waits, hoping no more harm comes to the man he loves. 

Then Negan is swinging his bat, stopping it inches from Daryl's face. Rick stops breathing altogether. 

 

Rick sees through teary eyes that his lover hadn't moved an inch, didn't even flinch. He stands stoically and Rick knows he's staring the man down, daring him. Negan speaks again then walks away, leaving his men to continue their assault. Always the fighter, Daryl fights all he can before he's beaten down. The last glimpse he has of the hunter is him falling to the ground and being half dragged through the same door Negan had left out of. 

The leader grabs onto the window seal trying in vain to keep himself steady. His entire body shakes with the horror of what he's seen. He groans out his despair, the binoculars falling from his hands. 

 

" _Fuck!_ Focus. Focus."

Rick pushes himself from the window and grabs blindly for his pack and slings both straps over his shoulders and heads back outside. 

It's black dark now, the backside of the warehouse blocking the car headlights. Wiping angrily at his eyes he pushes himself forward, keeping himself pressed against the side wall to keep himself hidden. The bricks catch on his bag and make faint scratching noises so he crouches instead, letting his senses guide his way ahead. When he makes it to the corner he hears the distinct sound of a man relieving himself, a guard stepping out into the darkness for privacy. 

Rick doesn't bother to wait for the man to finish, in no time he's behind the guard. The man doesn't have the chance to react before his neck is broken. The sound is sickeningly sweet. He savors his first victory as he checks his victim's pockets, finding a pack of cigarettes and a kitchen knife. Rick takes it and stabs the man through the temple, making sure he doesn't rise again. 

Continuing on, he slides the smokes into his back pocket for safe keeping, Daryl will want those. He checks for the pistol tucked in his pants and is pleased to find he hasn't lost it. 

A few yards up he catches the sight of a person sitting around a low fire, the red light catches the man's face perfectly. The guy is obese, chewing on a sandwich with his mouth open, lips slobbering over his fingers. Frowning, Rick strains his eyes to see what the man is fiddling with. What he sees is a weapon he know anywhere.

Daryl's crossbow. 

Hurrying forward so quiet that even Daryl would be proud he's behind the man in minutes. The man is so busy with his sandwich he doesn't notice Rick sliding up behind him. The sandwich is loaded with mayonnaise, dripping over the same fingers he's gripping the crossbow with. He grows tired of fiddling with it and lets the precious item fall to the ground without care, kicking it away from him like it's trash. Rick can't stop the snarl that rises from his throat. 

The other man hears him and whips around, mouth fixed to alert others. He goes to reach for some kind of aid but Rick is faster, grabbing the man by his hair and yanking him backward. He slaps a hand over the man's mouth at the same time he stabs the man in a downward arch into his collar bone. The man screams against his hand, the shock keeping him from fighting back. He flails -the sandwich now smashed in his hand- as Rick's knife gets stuck in the bone. Rick wrenches the knife out and strikes him again in the base of his throat, slicing upwards to his chin. 

Blood squirts out like red rain falling, the man gurgles, choking on himself as he goes limp in Rick's hold. He's dead before his sandwich hits the ground. It takes most of Rick's strength but he manages to push the man forward into the fire. 

Wiping his bloodied hands on his jeans he grabs up Daryl's crossbow, using his shirt to clean the sandwich residue from it. He stands for a moment to watch the upper half of the man burn. He wonders idly if sins ignite in the same fashion, twirling up then disappearing somewhere no one can reach nor see. The sight of it is satisfying in a way that Rick became comfortable with a long time ago. 

Then he's on the move again, knife in one hand and Daryl's crossbow in the other. 

Rick doesn't run into more enemies as he continues, thankfully. He can't waste much more time playing vigilante, at least not until he finds his way inside.

He stops behind some old rusted car to hide himself and scoots his way up to the side fender. Peeking around the front, he sees no one else around and ventures back out. He sees a path that leads further in, hoping it's clear and doesn't lead him too far in just yet. Without wasting time, he jogs steadily up through it and throws himself against the wall when he hears a pleading voice,

"Don't kill me, I ain't gonna tell no one about this! Please I -"

Then there's a growl so animalistic and final it vibrates through Rick. He knows that sound like he knows the southern tenor of his own voice. Following it is the dull sounds of someone being beaten violently. Rick throws himself from behind the wall and stops dead in his tracks. His knees go weak.

 

"D-Daryl?" 

 

The hunter can't hear him over his own breathing, heavy and ragged from the exertion of wielding the steel pipe in his hands. There is nothing left of the man's head, nothing but the short stump of his neck. Daryl doesn't let up. 

Anyone other than Rick would be triggered by the splashes of blood landing in thick blotches on the ground. Reminded of the wretched night that no one but Maggie has the courage to bring up.

The sound of bones breaking stopped minutes ago. Daryl is basically assaulting the ground at this point but Rick lets him. He keeps an eye out and understands that this is the first step towards his lover's healing. As fucked up as it may seem, this is a foot in the right direction. He just wishes the rest of the Saviors could experience a fate such as this and much worse. 

Daryl finally stops swinging when the pipe slips from his hands, all of it dripping red now. He stands there chest heaving, hair so dirty it's black falling down over his eyes. The rest is in total disarray, sticking out here and there, disturbed by the gentle breeze carrying death with it.

His tired eyes finally catch Rick's and both men are overcome with relief to see their other halves alive- bloodied, wounded and all. 

They stand for what seems like forever, drinking in the sight of one another. 

Then, in just a few steps Daryl has Rick in his arms, uncaring of how soiled their clothes are. They slump against each other for a moment, molding themselves together like the missing fragments of a soul.

When they pull apart Rick brushes Daryl's hair away from his face. Only then can he see the condition his hunter is truly in. His face is a canvas of bruises, split lip just beginning to heal. There are fingerprints colored into the skin of his neck, the evidence of choking. Even his eyes are much duller than Rick can handle. It's all he can do to keep himself from breaking down at seeing Daryl like this. The journey to recovery will be long, maybe infinite. 

The hunter flinches away when Rick's fingertips brush over a particularly sensitive spot and the leader draws away, apology in his eyes. 

 

Daryl looks away, his eyes falling to the crossbow Rick is carrying and the ghost of a smile shapes his face. 

"Got somethin' for ya too." He reaches behind himself then reveals the pistol Rick thought he'd never see again. Rick can only smile,

"Keep it, for now, someone is bound to come lookin' for him and the others soon." 

Daryl nods, tucking it in the back of his jeans. 

"Alexandria is the first place Negan will look. Got a plan on where we're goin' ?" 

Rick hums, thinking as he adjusts the weight of his book bag on his shoulders. "Yea. Need a ride though." 

A set of bike keys appear in Daryl's hand.

"Let's go." 

 

Instead of cranking the bike right in Negan's backyard they decide to roam out about a mile before riding. During the walk there isn't time for kissing, hugging and 'I missed yous'. There is only time to remain vigilant and cautious. Rick watches the moon, it seems...brighter now, more magnificent and full in its roundness. It's almost as if he can count every crater it owns, even reach out to it if he wanted. 

He doesn't, for there is someone far more precious not even 3 feet from him now. He's breathing and alive. Rick allows himself a silent exhale, letting some of the tension go with hopes they'll be let in where he's thinking they should escape to. 

Daryl doesn't mind the silence, it's their usual calm understanding that even their reunion doesn't have to be voiced just yet. He's just satisfied to be out of that damn cell and able to move around freely. Looking over at Rick, he feels a tug in his chest. It's not at all unpleasant, it's very welcome, easily recognized and treasured. The love he has for his leader. 

He can't make Rick out too good in this darkness but every once in a while he catches the outline of the man's jaw, his light brown hair illuminated under the moonlight or the shape of his own weapon resting easily in his lover's hand. The fact that Rick took the time to retrieve it means the world to Daryl. 

Unfortunately, this doesn't erase the bitter taste in his mouth from how he's been treated. How he's been smacked around, abused, stripped of his pride and clothing. It doesn't extinguish the hatred that's not at all foreign to him. From this step forward each move he makes will be towards revenge, to raze The Sanctuary and it's inhabitants to the ground. 

The hunter nods to himself, flexing his hands around the handles of the stolen bike, sure of his decision and is comforted that his lover will be there with him. 

Placing his hand over Daryl's on one of the bike's handlebars Rick brings them both to a quiet halt,

"Alright, I think it's safe now." 

Daryl catches the bright blue of his lover's eyes through the moonlight as he glances around, listening for followers. Daryl knows they're not being followed but waits for Rick to be sure as well. 

When he's ready he gives Daryl's hand a warm squeeze and doesn't miss how warm it feels, how it sets his heart right. Stepping back, Rick gives the hunter room to swing his leg over to settle himself on the bike before doing the same. He can't help but melt into the man, pressing all of his front to Daryl's back. Daryl leans back effectively removing any space between them. 

"Remember The Kingdom, north of here? That's where we're headed" he whispers in his hunter's ear, wrapping his arms around the man's middle. 

With a grunt, Daryl turns on the bike. Once they're moving at a safe pace he lets one hand go and places it on Rick's thigh, rubbing it as he guides them down the road. 

 

It's not long before the gates of the Kingdom come into sight. As they dismount the bike the two guards level their weapons at each man's head. Rick huffs out his impatience but raises his hands to signal his coming in peace. It takes Daryl longer but he does the same, reluctantly. 

The first guard who speaks is a woman, her eyes untrusting, 

"What business do you have here?" 

"I'm Rick Grimes, I've come for refuge with my partner, Daryl Dixon. I'd like to speak to your King." 

The second guard, a male, speaks next, "Ah. I've heard some things about you...Rick. Came here wantin' assistance for this *war* you're concocting. Turn away, our King wants nothing to do with you or your friend." 

Before Rick could retort Daryl is speaking, more like spitting his words, his voice pure angry gravel. 

"Best let us in. Rick here came out here to save my life and being in there will save both a ours. Ain't bein' followed so let us the fuck in!"

Both guards respond in cold silence.

Daryl's hands lower and he takes a step forward, charging the guards like an angry bull. Guns cock as Rick reaches for Daryl's arm. He misses by a centimeter, fingertips merely brushing the hunter's shoulder. A shot rings out through the night and Rick is breathless all over again. 

 

"Daryl, no!" 

 

The woman is smart enough to jump to the side, though she doesn't lose grip on her rifle. As Daryl slams the man into the gate, his forearm pressed across his neck she aims at Daryl's temple. 

"Daryl!" Rick warns, trying to keep his voice steady. "Damnit Daryl!" He tries again but his lover isn't listening, choosing to throw the man to the ground, straddling him. Rick senses that the woman is about to fire, left with no other choice he steps in front of the barrel. 

"I won't raise a hand to you but you will not kill him." Rick seethes. 

Daryl gets several punches in before the gates are opened, Ezekiel stands out from behind the gates. Rick turns his head to see he has Carol in tow. Both their faces are lit with alarm, Carol's with surprise as her eyes find Daryl. 

 

She side steps Ezekiel, making her way to Daryl who is still hunched over the fallen guard, his fist ready to strike again. He jerks when Carol crouches beside him to touch his shoulder. Only then does he take in what has really happened around him. Carol's face holding the same sad smile, Rick standing in front of a loaded gun. 

 

He jumps up, nearly knocking Carol over, pushing past her on his way to the woman holding a gun to his lover's chest. 

"Daryl. Please." Carol speaks, her voice firm. It's enough to stop him and he wonders why he's breathing so damn heavily. 

"Young lady, lower your weapon, there is no threat here," Ezekiel says with authority. 

Huffing, she makes a show of engaging the safety on her weapon as she stands down. Rick steps back and nods his thanks to Ezekiel, his eyes meet Daryl's and he can still see the fire burning there. It's waiting for its chance to rage again, all it needs is the smallest push. 

 

"What has caused this commotion? Walkers will soon crowd this space. Talk with haste, Rick." 

The irritation in his voice matches the way Rick feels, all he wants is to get Daryl inside and safe. He clears his throat, finding it a bit hard to form words at first. 

"Negan captured my partner here, Daryl Dixon. I went and got him. I want to stay at least the night here. To figure out our next move. Please." 

The King considers this, " I keep a humble and peaceful home. How do I know these transgressions won't repeat themselves?" 

Carol speaks up. "They're my friends...family, Ezekiel. I've loved these men for years now, they only want to do right by others." When Ezekiel gives her a look, thumbing towards Daryl she continues, "Ahem. Usually. Look, Negan is after them and you said yourself that he doesn't enter here. Your business with him is done elsewhere. Just let them be off the road tonight, it's dark, they both look awful." 

She walks confidently over to Ezekiel's side and presses in close. Rick cocks his head to one side and frowns, recognizing the meaning of the look that passes between them. It's one of trust, love, and respect. He would smile if he wasn't so busy hoping. 

"You may enter while Carol and I converse. If this does not turn to your favor, you both must leave." The King instructs. 

 

Daryl opens his mouth but Rick speaks over him, "Okay. I'm-I'm sorry for all of this." He says, waving his hand vaguely towards the guard sprawled out on the ground. 

Slipping his hand into Carol's, he beckons them in. The gates are closed behind them while the couple goes off to one side to talk. Rick takes the spare time to slide closer into Daryl's side.

The hunter stares forward, eyes moving to take in what he can see so far of this so- called Kingdom. He sees the outline of gardens and sheds, the odd cat running through. Quaint little houses smaller than the ones at Alexandria. Other than these piss poor guards it looks like this place isn't made for fighters but quiet survivors. 

_Aint shit gon' save me here._

"Fuck this" Daryl mutters, turning to leave. Rick's hand taking his stops him. 

"Daryl, please. Stay with me. I believe we can be safe here, for now." He tugs the calloused hand in his when Daryl tries to walk away still, "Please." 

 

The tone of Rick's voice is gruff, quiet but pleading. Daryl closes his eyes and breathes out, trying to let some of the anger and anxiety go. He knows he can't just _leave_ Rick here. Hell, he put his life in danger just to get them this far, stood in front of loaded gun to shield him from his own stupidity. He hasn't even uttered a 'thank you' to the man yet. Hasn't offered those pleading lips he loves so much as a kiss, nothing. 

 

Sighing, Daryl turns back and nods to Rick. "Okay." He says and Rick smiles. 

"Thank you." He replies, squeezing the hunter's hand. "Thank you." 

 

Daryl and Rick turn in time to see Carol pressing a kiss to The Kings cheek, the relaxed smile that graces her face is a rare one. Ezekiel senses their audience and clears his throat, seemingly embarrassed. "Carol spoke with the upmost care for you both. She has promised that your behavior will not pose a threat to my people here. So you may stay for the night." 

"Thank you, we appreciate it," Rick says, stepping up shake Ezekiel's hand. He hugs Carol. Thank you", he whispers in her ear. 

She hugs him tight then steps over to Daryl, frowning at his bruises and cuts. 

"Awh Pookie, c'mere" she coos, wrapping her arms around Daryl's neck. Daryl is hesitant but hugs back sincerely. "Let's get you two a room and some first aid. Food too." , she winks. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

 

It doesn't take long for Carol to set them up in a clean room with pristine, white walls, and a nicely groomed bed. Neither Rick nor Daryl feel comfortable bringing their filth into the room but their friend insists. She ushers them in, first aid kit in hand and sits Daryl on the side of the bed to fuss over him. 

Rick stands to the side until Daryl beckons him over with a crooked finger. The leader sits gingerly on the bed as not to jostle his partner and disturb the care he's getting. As always the leader knows what the hunter needs. Carol is as gentle as she can but Daryl still winces here and there while she pats at his face. 

Rick watches her gratefully. It's so good seeing Carol again. He hadn't known she was here for he hadn't seen her the last time he came to the Kingdom to plead for help against Negan. She looks better, more at peace and he hopes it's a long time before she hears of the family they've lost. 

The three of them talk about how she's been, about her relationship with Ezekiel. She blushes, ducking her head but it's clear that what she has going is a good thing. Daryl and Rick are happy for her, they hope this world allows it to last. 

She asks Daryl about the bruises and cuts adorning his face but understands when she gets no answer. 

"Some things are still too fresh to talk about, it's okay." 

Daryl seems thankful to her for obeying his need of privacy.

When she asks if everyone is okay with tears gathering in her eyes, Daryl is the one to lie to her. She looks so desperate for good news Rick doesn't correct him. He goes along with him knowing that Carol's healing is still fragile and no one knows that like his lover does. She kisses both their foreheads good night and closes the door behind her with a soft click like they're already sleeping. 

 

As soon as they are alone Rick lets out a loud breath. "May I?" He asks. 

Daryl looks at him, knowing what he wants. " 'Course." He sighs as he feels his lover's fingers gently comb through his hair.

Rick is beyond pleased that Daryl has enough in him to still allow touch after all he's suffered. He leans in feeling Daryl's warmth, it's a comfort he wasn't sure he'd feel again. Damn if he didn't fight for it though. 

"You know I've gotta fuss right?" Rick says, breaking their silence. He feels Daryl tense as he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. 

"Know what you're gonna say, Rick. Should'na done that shit out there with them guards. They wouldn't let us in. Standin' there with them damn rifles like they's royalty. Knew they couldn't fight or shoot worth shit." Daryl clenches his fist, his voice dark. "If I had gotten shot then I would've, ain't nothin' stoppin' me from killin' Negan. Nuthin'." 

"A bullet to the head would have, Daryl." 

Daryl rises angrily to his feet, shrugging Rick's hand off. The fire is back in Daryl's eyes just as quick as Rick thought it would.

" Well, it ain't happen like tha'! Why ya always gotta do that? Talk about what-ifs? Ain't 'nough breath in your fuckin' lungs to talk about what-ifs. Been sittin' in a cell for _weeks_ , Rick! All I been think 'bout is what-ifs. Been thinkin' about Glenn. Abe. Been thinkin' about you...so don't preach ta me about goddamn what-ifs. Don -" 

Rick crowds into his space, his hands falling to the man's waist. Daryl pushes at his chest but the man persists, continues to crowd in steadily. Rick is the only one walking this world who could get away with toeing the line like this. Rather than punch out at Rick, Daryl takes a step back to gather himself. 

 

This time Rick doesn't follow, raising his hands in peace then letting one fall carefully back to Daryl's waist. The hunter wants to swat at the hand cupped there but doesn't, instead he eyes Rick. As a hunter, he's always waiting for the next move. 

"I just got you back. Losing you is the last thing I want. I couldn't handle it."

Daryl nods, patting at the warm hand still cupping his hip before crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Yeah, well, can't promise ya nuthin'." 

Rick frowns, deeply disturbed by how true those words are, "Yes, but I need you to be more careful, alright?"

"Yeah, I'll try." 

Rick closes the gap between them until they're chest to chest. The hand previously resting on Daryl's hip finds it's way back into his hair, tugging it until their lips meet.

It's a deep, yearning, crushing sort of thing. The way their lips move together in tandem, not leaving the other until the need for breath forces them apart. Their tongues push together like magnets and both men feel a victory they haven't in a long time. Daryl grunts against the pain in his split lip but bears it because this is healing all on its own. 

It's a long time before they separate but when they do there are tears twinkling in Rick's eyes. His fingers push Daryl's hair back as the other squeezes the side of his neck. He smiles and it reminds Daryl of rain clouds in summer.

"C'mon", Rick smiles, "Let's get you clean."

"Me? Looks like ya been bathin' in blood and guts." Daryl scoffs. "How many ya kill anyway?" 

"A few. Half dozen walkers and 2 people." Rick grins.

"Oh. Is tha all? Careful sheriff, seems like yer slackin'."

The other snorts dismissively, waving his hand. "Whatever. C'mon, would ya?" 

 

Daryl chuckles quietly as he follows the leader into the bathroom. 

 

Both men shed their soiled clothing like dead pieces of skin. There's no use in trying to save the cleanliness of the bathroom in all their ruin. For Daryl, it's nice to hear the sweet pour of water into the tub as the room engulfs them in heat before they step in. It stings against his abrasions and bruises but he's grateful for the long lost luxury anyway. He definitely appreciates the man standing not but a foot from him, his curls slicked back from his face. The water runs trails through the grime covering his body, removing dirt and blood like it was never there. 

Daryl watches their filth circle around the drain and wonders if the memories of what they've been through and will face will do the same. He knows within himself that he's not entirely broken but the trauma will arise on its own and he hopes upon hope that his lover will continue to be there with and for him. 

With Negan alive and well, neither of them know what tomorrow will bring. If the last thing he sees is a bullet between the tyrant's eyes then that would be good enough. But right now being close to Rick is more than wonderful, it's profound, groundbreaking; another golden coin in his pocket of victory. 

He frowns when he realizes that for the first time in weeks he's equally naked but infinitely more comfortable. He didn't shy from Ricks touch, it's more soothing than the warm water cascading down his body. There's no need to with the deep trust they've always had and this is no different. Negan sure as fuck doesn't have the strength to tear his heart from Rick's hands. Nor does he have the power to hinder down the progress they've made since the beginning. Starting way back in Atlanta, all those lifetimes ago. 

 

Then, Rick's palm is cupping his chin, tilting his head up to make eye contact. Daryl smiles, removing Ricks hand from his chin to press his lips to the man's knuckles. He holds the kiss, closing his eyes against the water in them and the sensation of finally having lips matched with precious skin. 

He sighs now, stepping up to Rick and embracing hin. Front melting into front so close the water pools between them. Rick returns it tightly and Daryl huffs a laugh when he thinks of how they must look; two grown ass men hugging in the fucking shower. 

"What?" Rick asks, pulling away. 

"Nah. It's nuthin', jus' glad to be here. "Missed ya." He adds with a mumble.

A kiss is whispered across his lips, "Missed you too. So much."

 

Nothing else is said as Rick tends to Daryl's body. He's torn between wanting to be angry at the hurt his lover endured or cry tears of joy at the fact that he'd survived it. Daryl is nothing short of a warrior, an angel-winged wonder only he'd have the privilege to truly and deeply care for. 

Rick takes great care in washing away what Negan has done until nothing but the bruises and scrapes are left. The play of the soapy cloth over Daryl's paled skin threatens to move him sexually but he won't make that move yet. He wants Daryl to readjust to being free without being pawed at. You do things like that when you respect someone as well as love them. He carefully washes every inch down to the man's toes and back again. 

"Your face now, I'll be gentle. I promise" he whispers, waiting for the nod Daryl will give him. 

Ridding the cloth of soap then wringing it dry he pats gently at the hunters face. Once he's done he places a gentle kiss to the healing lip and draws away, running his fingers through Daryl's hair. The man all but purrs but grumbles half- heartedly when Rick insists on shampooing his hair.

Washing Rick, Daryl takes the same care and more removing the man's journey from his flesh until he glistens with it. Kissing 'thank yous' and 'i love yous' into the man's skin when words were impossible. 

Stepping out of the shower they toweled each other off and walked hand in hand back into the bedroom. They weren't surprised to see two plates of warm food waiting for them. Nobody but Carol would have done that, the beautiful, motherly soul that she is. 

They dig into their plates, sitting thigh to thigh on the bed. Rick makes sure Daryl gets most of his plate but it doesn't go without argument. Rick is happy just seeing Daryl eat real food. 

Once their stomachs are full Rick jumps up, losing the towel tucked around his waist. 

"Oh! Almost forgot!" He says excitedly, running back into the bathroom. Daryl doesn't complain at the glimpse of Ricks ass and bowed legs as he runs back into the bathroom. 

He's only gone a moment, walking back in with his towel in place. Shame. Daryl's eyes widen at the dented pack of Winston's now resting in his hand. He can't remember the last smoke he'd had, it's been weeks ago, a month maybe. Thankfully it has a tiny green lighter in the pack as well. Half full pack too. Small blessings.

"And um. Here." Rick hands his lover his crossbow as well. "You'd know better than me if it's broken or anything. Needs to be wiped down, though, I'm sure it's sticky. Nasty bastard had his grimy fingers all over it." 

Daryl smooths his hand over the stock and tears gather in his eyes. He never thought he'd see this weapon again. It's always been an extension of himself and to have it back is overwhelming. He keeps his head bowed to hide his state, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. 

Rick scratches the back of his neck then sits beside Daryl, waiting, wanting to let the man have his moment without comment. The only sound is a quick sniffle from his lover as the man reacquaints himself with his weapon. Then his arms are full of hunter, his mouth taken in firm kisses. 

"Thank you." 

Rick smiles, a blush heating his ears and cheeks. How he loved to see his hunter be given what he deserves instead of it being taken. 

"Of course, Daryl. No problem. I'm glad I ran across it." 

The hunter's lights a smoke in response. His cheeks suck in to take his first long draw, his eyes falling closed as he enjoys the burn of nicotine against his throat. There's very little smoke when he exhales through his nose. Rick knows it's not healthy but who is he to fuss over something that clearly relaxes him?

"Wanna check your pistol?"Daryl asks, already rising to retrieve it. 

Rick stops him, "No it's okay, I know it's here. I'm not worried about it. Thank you, I really appreciate having it back." 

"Sure. Now." Daryl pauses to draw on his smoke, "What we gonna do about this prick?" 

Rick blows out a breath, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. "I don't know, I didn't think that far. Someone has found the bodies by now, no doubt, so he knows you're gone." 

Daryl shakes his head, getting up to flick his smoke out of the window. When he turns back Rick has a pair of pajamas Carol left behind held out to him. Both men dress in silence before Daryl speaks up, "We'll have it figured come mornin'"

He slumps back against the headboard with a heavy sigh, his fingers playing at the sparse hair adorning his chin. Daryl does this sometimes when he's putting words together. Rick rubs the man's thigh, enjoying how close it's pressed to his own while he waits patiently. 

 

"Dwight. He slipped a message and bike keys under my cell door, left the door open for me. So I ran for it. That fucker caught me, won't gonna let him rat me out." 

"I hear ya," Rick answers, slipping his fingers between Daryl's. "Dwight came to Alexandria, told me some of what they did...to you. I need you to understand that I hadn't come yet because I've been trying to play by their rules. I knew one false move could bring harm to you. But when he told me that, I had to come. I had to, Daryl." 

He's then rewarded with gentle fingers through his damp curls and a kiss so loving it warms every chilled part of him. 

"I know, Rick. Weren't mad. Too busy survivin' ta play a damn damsel in distress, ya know?"

"I do know. And I'm sorry. We will kill him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but he will die."

Daryl hums his approval, "That's the only promise either of us can make."

With this they crawl under the covers and settle in with Daryl spooned in behind Rick, his arm wrapped tight around his leader's middle. He argued this is how they usually slept so why should tonight be any different. Rick could've given the man about 50 reasons as to why tonight is different but he gave in.

He can't help but feel at peace with his other half this close to him. He strokes the arm wrapped around his middle, mindful of the few bruises there he'd spotted earlier. He feels as though this is the eye of the storm. The other shoe will drop with the rising of the sun come morning. Rick presses his back closer into Daryl's chest to remind himself that he is indeed there and he's accomplished what he came to do. 

Daryl is asleep within minutes from lack of rest but the night is still rough. He woke often in sweats, screams barely reduced to gasps from his lips. Rick is patient with him, soothing him, even lighting the hunter a cigarette to calm his shakes. When that isn't quite enough, Rick whispers endless 'I love you's' into his lover's ear.

During one of his fits, Rick gathers Daryl in his arms, rocking him. His heart breaks for the other man, it only hardens his resolve that Negan and his scum will pay for the pain they've had to endure. 

Sometime during the night Daryl slides from the bed and tells Rick that he needs a few moments alone. Rick holds on to Daryl's hand until he's forced to let go and as soon as the door closes behind him Rick's stomach clenches even tighter with worry. He doesn't want the hunter out of his sight just yet, it's too soon, been too long since they've been this close. A life could be lost in seconds in this world they now survive in. 

By the time Rick is hurriedly throwing his clothes back on Daryl steps back into their room. He immediately sees the anxiety in Rick's eyes and relieves it with a tender kiss. " 'M alright. Needed some air."

"You sure?" Rick asks, frowning. 

Daryl's chin dip in his usual nod, " Nah, I ain't nowhere near fine, Rick. That cell was pure hell. Can't talk about it, not till I know you and the family are safe." 

Rick reaches out to squeeze Daryl's shoulder, his thumb tracing over the hunter's collarbone. Daryl's grasps at his wrist and for a moment Rick thinks Daryl will push him away but instead his forearm is rubbed lovingly. 

"We've made it this far, love. There's not a doubt in me that we can't push further, conquer Negan and his people. Neither Glenn nor Abraham died in vain." 

Daryl narrows his eyes, "Still tryin' ta make promises?" 

"Yes." Rick deadpans, believing with everything in him that he can deliver.

Daryl snorts then shakes his head, stepping up to Rick. "Well. I believe in ya, sweetheart. Since we're suddenly makin' promises..." He pulls Rick closer by his waist, blue meeting blue just like always. "I'm gonna be here with ya, the best I know how. Ain't goin nowhere again."

Rick could've sobbed at hearing those words but the promise makes him stand taller, the weight of being without Daryl finally removed from his shoulders. 

"We can do this," Rick says with firm conviction.

Daryl grins, "Fuck yeah we can, and will."


End file.
